


Pirouetting in the Netherworld

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Dialogue-Only, Evil Winchesters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-28
Updated: 2009-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Hell, Sam is doing a ritual. Dean is watching and laughing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pirouetting in the Netherworld

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely following [Hell's Antiques Are Not Sextoys](http://lori-leaf.livejournal.com/37779.html) which was written with [lori_leaf](http://lori-leaf.livejournal.com).

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it looks like I'm doing, Dean?"

"You really don't want me to give you an honest answer to that."

"Oh, for the love of... It's a ritual. An ordinary ritual that I need to complete once a week. Ideally without an audience."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"See what?"

"Why you wouldn't want an audience. Holy shit, Sam, is that a fucking wand?"

"What? No! This is the sacred rod of Miktarva. It has nothing to do with fucking. Oh, God, please tell me this hasn't been up your ass."

"Not recently."

"Not recent- Dean! You need to stop using my relics as sex toys. It's like your ass has kleptomania."

"Hey!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I offend your ass? Quit touching my stuff!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, we're in Hell, Sam. The big fiery pit that you happen to be the goddamn king of. Everything is your stuff! Even my dick's got 'Property of Sam' stamped on it."

"I thought you liked the personalized cock ring..."

"Aw, don't look at me like that. I thought the whole pout thing got squashed when you went all demon Messiah on my ass. The Antichrist should not have puppy-dog eyes."

"I didn't know you had such a problem with it, that's all. I mean, you seemed happy enough when I gave it to you..."

"For fuck's sake- Yes, it's fine, Sam. The personalized cock ring is shiny and wonderful, and you can stop sulking now. Although, I gotta tell you, as awesome as the cock ring is, that stick is ridiculous."

"It's not a stick, Dean. It's a rod. The rod of Miktarva."

"You cut the dick off some guy named Mick?"

"Miktarva, and no. The rod was crafted by the demon Miktarva as an offering to the future king, and I need to pull it out of a rock and perform a routine with it to preserve my power."

"So what you're telling me is that you spend an hour a week impersonating King Arthur while doing ballet and holding a sparkly wand?"

"No! I gave you a clear description of what I'm doing. You were always crap at Telephone when we were kids."

"Okay, one: that wasn't my fault. You were the one who kept using dumbass words. What kind of five year old makes up a message about the Lithuanian values of reciprocity?"

"I found it interesting."

"And two: I was totally fucking accurate. You're pulling out a mystic pointy thing from a stone, which, blindingly obvious sexual connotations aside, is like the King Arthur story. If England hadn't got eaten by Frank, you'd be the king of it."

"I suppose there are some similariti-"

"Exactly. And as for the ballet thing, you're doing goddamn pirouettes, dude."

"In order to tap the rod of Miktarva in the appropriate locations, the ritual requires me to turn."

"Like a pirouette."

"No, Dean. Not like a pirouette. I'm the almighty ruler of the Netherworld. I do not pirouette."

"Dude, you just said nethers."

"Nether _world_. Excuse me for trying to vary my vocabulary."

"Hey, I got a word for you. _Pirouette._ How's that for varying your vocabulary, princess?"

"I'd smite you for this, but I think you'd enjoy it too much."

"Gee, Sam, you know me so well."

"Could you please just leave me to my turning in peace. Go hassle the minions."

"Hell no. As fun as Bob is when he's sunk a few, he doesn't pirouette for my viewing pleasure."

"Fuck you."

"Aw, that hurts, Sammy. I haven't even complimented you on your glittery rod yet. Tell me, did Mick put those sparkles on or did you feel it needed a little more jazz? You can tell me these things."

"The rod of Mik _tarva_ does not glitter, Dean. It's coated with a special gel to ease the transfer of power and-"

"So you just coated Mick's rod in spangled lube?"

"Go away."

"I'm sorry, did you and Mick's large lubed rod want some alone time? Does it throb too, Sammy?"

"You suck."

"Ah, I would, but Mick's rod's fucking distracting."

"Have you been spending time with Christian Bale again?"

"Yeah. Phil's been shining lights on him for hours now. It's fucking great."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Now go do that elsewhere."

"And pass up the chance to watch my little bro dance with his sparkly wand?"

"Yes. Go."

"Sam, I can't believe you'd do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Doubt my commitment to sparkle-motion."


End file.
